


Then He Kissed Me

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, First Time, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14793483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: a Song-fiction for a young Abbey and Jed





	Then He Kissed Me

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers - Through "The Portland Trip"

 

 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul.

 

 

Author's note:

 

I was attracted the to Jed/Abbey pairing from the very beginning of the West Wing, but when the creative writing bug bit me, I didn't feel compelled to write about them. I attribute it to the fact that there are so many "Jabbers" who do write for them. However, in the past two months, I've found Abbey pulling on the skirts of my muse, demanding that this particular little mini-novella be written, and here it is.

 

 

Given the license plate on Jed's car in "Two Cathedrals", I've always assumed that Jed was between 16 and 18 in 1960, which would put him at Notre Dame in the middle part of the 1960's. I am assuming that Abbey was about three years' younger, and I am making her a freshman at St. Mary's - the Catholic women's (but at that time, we would have said "girls") college "across the street" from Notre Dame.

 

 

"Then He Kissed Me", by the Crystals, is one of my favorite songs from my high school days. To this day, if it is played on the "oldies" station to which my car radio is tuned, I turn up the volume full blast and sing along to the strident bass beat (" **dum** da **da** **dum,** **dum** da **da** **dum"** ). It is the fairy tale romance that many of us have wanted, and some of us have had, since the beginning of time.

 

 

One more thing. In the time period of this tale, it would be almost twenty years before health researchers started noticing the incidence of what they thought was a cancer in otherwise healthy male homosexuals, and started talking about something they called "GRID" - Gay Related Immune Disorder. Please do not do what we did in simpler, less harrowing times.

 

 

And never use withdrawal as your only method of birth control.  


* * *

**St. Mary’s College, Notre Dame, IN; a mid-September Friday night, mid-1960’s**

“ _Well, he walked up to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance”_

Abbey Barrington checked herself in the mirror of the ladies’ room.

Her flip was perfect, even on both sides, the bangs had a casual air that belied the five minutes she had just spent on getting them just right. Her upper lid eyeliner, dark brown instead of the black worn by most of the other girls, turned up at the corners of her eyes, and the line she drew inside her lower lids set off her irises to perfection.

Abbey’s A-line skirt in heather-blue wool, with its matching pullover sweater, was maybe just a tad too heavy for the late summer/early autumn Friday night, but she was not going to wear a summer dress to this mixer. Her summer things reeked of “high school” and she was now a college freshman. The simple circle pin on her left shoulder was her only jewelry other than her watch. Maybe she should let Lisa, the junior nursing student who pierced ears with a darning needle and isopropyl alcohol (“I haven’t killed anyone yet, and my only infectees didn’t follow my instructions) do hers. By the time she went home for Christmas, it would be a _fait accompli_ , even if her parents were livid. Her seamless stockings were run-free, and the garter belt was comfortable. Maybe she should save up to buy a pair of those new “pantyhose” that were just hitting the market. Her pebble-grain Weejuns® were properly polished but not too shiny. The vanilla, orange blossom, and jasmine of her cologne wafted from her wrists and the valley between her breasts. No “Ambush”, “Wind Song”, or “Shalimar” for her – she was a “Chanel No 22” girl.

“Okay,” she told herself, “let’s see what these Notre Dame boys are like. Might as well make the best of a bad situation.”

Last fall, when Sister Mary Diane told her to “not put all her eggs in one or two baskets”, Abbey just laughed. Her grades were excellent, her SAT total was 1450, her extra-curricular activities were varied. She shouldn’t have any problem getting into all three of her “real schools” – Radcliffe, Vassar, and Bennington.

“But, my dear, those schools get fourteen or fifteen applicants for every place in the freshman class. Of those applicants, seven or eight are capable of doing the work. Those schools can cherry-pick to get the mix they want. If you really want to go to a ‘seven sisters’ type school, apply to more of them. Although I don’t know why you aren’t considering a good Catholic girls’ school like Manhattanville or Rosary,” the nun sniffed.

Come June, Abigail Barrington would have completed twelve years of Catholic education. Enough was enough.

“Well, I did apply to St. Mary’s in Indiana, because Sister Superior said she wouldn’t write me a reference unless I at least applied to a church school,” Abbey laughed. “As for the others, I didn’t like Philadelphia and Bryn Mawr; my parents were terrified of New York City, so Barnard was out. As for Smith and Mt. Holyoke, I just didn’t feel right there. And Pembroke, Connecticut College for Women, and Wellesley are too close to home. So is Radcliffe, but its prestige overcomes that nearness.”

“Wellesley also has a lot of prestige. One of my classmates went to Wellesley. Izzy claims that someday, the first serious female candidate for president, if not the first female president, will be a Wellesley girl.”

Then, last spring, Abbey sat in tears as she stared at the three thin window envelopes postmarked Cambridge, Poughkeepsie, and Bennington. Apparently, her guidance counselor knew what she was talking about when she talked about applicant to admissions ratios. Then there were the slots set aside for legacy students. And, finally, there was the dirty little secret of quotas – not too many Catholics, not too many Jews, not too many Negroes to dilute the WASPness. The thick envelope from Indiana was her only option.

“Well, I’ll make the best of this year,” Abbey decided as she left the restroom.

“ _He looked kinda nice and so I said I might take a chance”_

The mixer was only for freshman girls, but the boys would be from all four classes at Notre Dame.

The deejay was just starting to play “Judy’s Turn to Cry” when Abbey walked into the room and started toward the trio of girls from her dormitory.

“Excuse me, would you like to dance?”

She turned to face the voice.

He had the most incredible blue eyes and gorgeous brown hair. His voice reminded her of home, of New England.

“Sure. Thank you.”

He introduced himself. Jed Bartlet. “I’m please to meet you, Abbey Barrington.” A senior, studying Economics. Why, yes, he was from New England, New Hampshire, to be exact. You’re from Rhode Island? Small world, isn’t it? Where in Rhode Island? No, I’m not going to laugh about you being from Barrington, I mean, it would be hypocritical, wouldn’t it? Well, maybe they didn’t teach it outside of his home state, but his great-grandfather’s great-grandfather, another Josiah Bartlet, only he spelled it with another “t”, signed the Declaration of Independence. Oh, on your mother’s mother’s mother’s side, you’re a Mayflower Eaton? Wonder how all those New England Puritans feel about having two Papist descendants?

He was fascinating and Abbey really didn’t want to dance with anyone else. A couple of boys approached them, but sensed that the two of them were “clicking”, and left them alone.

“ _When we danced he held me tight”_

“And now for our last dance.”

Naturally, it was a slow dance, and she felt Jed draw her just a little tighter, just a little closer to him.

Abbey really had to hand it to the Sisters of the Holy Cross. No obvious, heavy-handed interference from them at this dance, no nun going around telling couples to “leave room for the Holy Ghost between you”.

No, they relied on the haunting voices of the Shirelles, as they asked the question women had been asking since the beginning of time, to put doubt, pause, and caution in the minds of their students.

“ _Tonight with words unspoken_  
You say that I'm the only one  
But will my heart be broken  
When the night meets the morning sun?

_Is this a lasting treasure_  
Or just a moment's pleasure?  
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?  
Will you still love me tomorrow?”

With one more glass of punch, they headed for the door.

“ _And when he walked me home that night”_

“I have to work a double shift at the library tomorrow. One of the guys wanted to go up to Northwestern to see his girl. But I was wondering, would you like to go to the game with me next Saturday? Maybe go to eat, and then to the dance afterward?”

A Notre Dame football game? Abbey thought to herself. I’d go with you even if you weren’t impossibly handsome, a wonderful dancer, a senior, not to mention a totally nice guy.

“I’d really like that, Jed.”

“ _All the stars were shining bright”_

As they headed toward LeMans Hall, Jed talked about the constellations overhead. She was beginning to think he was a bit of a know-it-all, but somehow, she didn’t mind.

They reached the dormitory.

“Well, I’ll pick you up at noon on Saturday. I’m in Alumni Hall if you need to change anything.”

“Thank you, Jed. I had a very nice time. Good night.” Abbey held out her hand.

Jed took her hand.

“The pleasure was all mine, Abbey.”

” _And then he kissed me.”_

Jed reached in, kissed her left cheek, smiled, and walked away.

Abbey walked up to her second floor room. Several other girls were in the lounge – some freshmen, some juniors and seniors who were engaged or pinned to boys at other schools (or in grad school).

“So, did you meet anyone?” This from Becky, her roommate.

Abbey told them about Jed, told them she had a date for the game next Saturday.

“Jed Barlet!” This with a laugh, from Susan, one of the seniors.

“He seems like a really nice boy!” Abbey protested.

“Oh, he is.” This with a giggle from Jackie, a junior.

“He’s very good looking.” Abbey’s voice got louder.

“Definitely,” said Patty as the laughter got louder.

“What’s so funny?” Deirdre, a senior who was dating a ‘Domer, walked into the lounge.

“Abbey has a date with F-squared W-squared,” one of the girls explained.

“What the hell does that mean?” Abbey was getting mad.

“F – F – W – W,” Deirdre said, then, seeing the look of total confusion on Abbey’s face, “Future Father What-a-Waste.”

Finally Beth, the senior who was dorm president, took pity on Abbey and spelled it out in small words. “After he graduates, Jed Bartlet is entering the seminary. That almost perfect specimen of the male species wants to be a priest. You have no future there.”

Well, unlike everyone else in the room, Abigail Barrington wasn’t here to get an MRS degree from Notre Dame. She was here because she didn’t fit into the plans of the Deans of Admissions at Radcliffe, Vassar, and Bennington. She was here in order to get really good grades, to transfer to a better school, to get a degree, preferably _summa cum laude_ , in Biology. Abigail Barrington wanted to be a doctor.

However, having a little fun while doing so would be nice, too. Having it with a boy who wouldn’t be “an occasion of sin” wouldn’t hurt.

**Early November**

“ _Each time I saw him, I couldn’t wait to see him again_ ”

“If you were to believe Aeschylus, the ancient Greeks had very poor familial relations.”

Jed and Abbey had just left the Notre Dame Drama Club’s presentation of “the Libation Bearers”. Last week, they saw “Agamemnon”. Next week, the last play of the Oresteia trilogy, “the Eumenides”, would be staged.

“So I guess that we can’t blame everything on the increasing number of women in the workplace,” Abbey joked.

“Women have always worked, except for the last fifty years or so. Well, maybe not the upper classes, but once the Industrial Revolution started in England, women were filling the factories.”

“I know all about the Barrington Mills, Josiah.” Abbey knew of her family’s history in the cotton trade.

Color her weird, but Abbey enjoyed hearing Jed talk on and on. He wasn’t doing it to show off, as some thought. Jed wanted to know everything there was to know, and wanted to share that knowledge with others.

Jed was the perfect guy for her. She had fun with him, at movies, at dances, at football games. Jed respected her dreams of medical school. Jed told her that if she did really want to transfer out of St. Mary’s, to go ahead and aim high, but added, “Abbey, you can get a really good education here as well, and you’ll get more individual attention and training.”

“I’m sure you do. Listen, if you haven’t been asked by someone else, will you go to the Winter Concert with me next month? It’s right before we break for Christmas.”

Did Jed really think that she was dating anyone else?

“I’d love it. Well, I’d better get inside. Listen, my roommate Becky and her boyfriend, you know Steve Reeseman?, want to know if we’d like to go sailing one more time before Steve puts away the boat.” Steve was from Michigan City, and he sometimes took Becky home with him for a weekend.

“Sounds like fun. G’night.”

Abbey reached up to kiss Jed’s cheek, but Jed moved his head and lightly brushed her lips.

**Mid-February**

“ _I wanted to let him know that he was more than a friend”_

“Abbey, you look breath-taking! It’s really too much to waste on a guy that’s gonna give it all up for God!”

Abbey twirled in front of the full-length mirror in the dormitory communal bathroom. Her dress was perfect for the Notre Dame Valentine’s Day ball. It was a sleeveless, with a Vee neckline, an empire waist, and one inverted pleat that fell into a modified bell floor-length skirt. It was devoid of any lace, bow, or bauble. It was cherry red, with matching silk high-heeled pumps.

Laura from down the hall lent Abbey pearls – a twenty inch strand at her neck and three bead drops in her ears. (Abbey had succumbed to pressure, and did get her ears pierced.)

“Damn!” Abbey tucked at the strands of hair that had come loose from her French twist.

“Don’t.” Becky restrained Abbey’s hand. “It looks kind of sexy that way, not that you should be seducing that priest-to-be.”

Becky’s dress was sapphire blue, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slightly fuller skirt. Her dark curly hair was pulled back from the sides of her face with little combs.

Just as they returned to their room, the buzzer sounded.

“Becky, you have a caller,” the helpful voice announced.

“Steve’s here. See you there.” Becky picked up her mother’s fur stole and left the room.

As she waited for Jed, Abbey thought back on the last few months.

She had aced all her classes.

She had applied for transfer status to Radcliffe (again), Wellesley, and Smith.

She and Jed had exchanged two sets of letters over the Christmas break, but told her parents that “he was just a friend” who wanted to be a priest.

Abbey was concerned about Jed. He seemed a little preoccupied, but when she pressed, he insisted everything was okay. His grades were still good, he had a 3.85 going into his final semester. In fact, one of his professors had nominated him for a fellowship in England, to the London School of Economics, and he was a finalist for the honor. His health was fine. He’d never make varsity, but he did pretty good on the intra-mural hockey team.

“Abbey, you have a caller,” the disconnected voice announced.

Abbey picked up her matching silk shawl with its dyed-to-match wool lining and walked down to the dormitory lobby.

“Oh, Abbey!”

Jed’s eyes, his entire face, seemed to glow as he caught sight of her.

He opened the box containing the white gardenia wrist corsage, slipped it over her left hand, and helped her with her wrap.

“Miss Barrington, you are truly a Valentine vision.” Apparently, he had regained his composure.

The dance was very nice. There was a deejay spinning 45’s in one ballroom, an orchestra playing Dorsey, Goodman, and Glenn Miller type music in another. Several of the punch bowls had been spiked, of course, but Jed seemed to know which ones were and which weren’t. He asked Abbey which she would prefer. (They alternated, two “virgin” drinks to one spiked one.) Many guys tried to cut in on Jed, but she just smiled and said she would dance with the guy that brought her to the ball.

After the dance, they stopped in a local diner for eggs and coffee. (The college had extended curfew by one hour for the girls who were going to the ball.) Abbey was again sure that something was bothering the young man across from her, but didn’t say anything.

They were standing outside LeMans Hall. Abbey turned to Jed, intending to thank him again for a wonderful evening, when she caught sight of his face in the winter moonlight. She was shocked at the anguish in his eyes.

“Please, Jed, I’m not just any friend. Let me help. What is bothering you so?”

He told her. She was the most fascinating woman he had ever met. He had enjoyed the company of girls before, but being with her was something beyond those times. He had never dreamed that being with a woman could be like this. He wanted to spend so much more time with her. He was withdrawing his application to the seminary and was applying to graduate school in Chicago, to the University, to Penn, and to Yale. He was weighing the opportunity in England.

“No-o-o!!”

Abbey didn’t want to hear what Jed was saying about her, didn’t want their relationship to change.

She ran into the dorm.

**Early April**

“ _I didn’t know just what to do”_

“Abbey, you have a caller in the lounge.” The girl working the bell desk called to Abbey as she walked into the dorm.

Jed called twice right after the dance, then told Abbey he would leave her alone for a while. Apparently, he had decided to see her in person. She was tempted to just walk upstairs, but then realized that it was the coward’s way out.

Abbey walked into the lounge.

“Jed, I - ”

“Who’s Jed?” A tall guy with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes stood up, came over, and enveloped her in a big hug. “Have I been replaced?”

“Ron!” Abbey exclaimed, returning the hug and kissing the handsome young man. “What are you doing here?”

“Back home; it’s Spring Break at Tougaloo. Decided I’d drop in on you.”

At the beginning of Abbey’s senior year in high school, a classmate offered to fix up Abbey with her brother’s roommate at Brown. “His name is Ron Erlich. He lives in Chicago.”

It was heady, dating a college boy. Her parents wouldn’t let her see him exclusively, but they did let her go to Homecoming and to some other events with Ron. They saw each other throughout the school year, and she asked him to her Senior Prom.

They stayed out all night and went with the others to the clambake on the Cape. It was there in the dunes that she and he made love, she for the first time, he for the third.

Abbey was scared. She waited out the next week until her period came, then told Ron that she didn’t want to continue “doing it”. She wanted to go on to college, even if it was St. Mary’s, go to medical school, and become a doctor. She would understand if he didn’t want to see her again.

Ron told her if she didn’t want to date him, that was one thing, but if she still liked him, maybe she should see about getting some birth control pills. He heard that Planned Parenthood would give them to unmarried girls “no questions asked”.

She asked if they could continue to date without having sex.

“Abbey, my darling, I’ll always be your friend, but having had sex with you, I don’t think I could go back.”

Frankly, Abbey didn’t see what the big deal was. It hurt at first and while it felt kind of nice after a while, it didn’t seem to be the wonderful blast of fireworks everyone talked about. Anyway, come September, she would be in Indiana and he would be in Providence and then in Mississippi for the Brown-Tougaloo exchange program in the spring.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to be friends, Ron.”

“If that’s what you want, Abbey.”

It was easier than she thought it would be.

“So, let me take you to dinner.” Ron’s voice brought her back to the present. “And you can tell me about this Jed guy,” he continued.

Over steaks and Chianti (Ron produced fake ids for each of them -- Pennsylvania driver’s licenses didn’t have pictures), Ron managed to wheedle the entire story out of Abbey.

“So, Abbey, why are you so miserable? It seems that he got the message, is leaving you alone.”

“But I miss him!”

“So. Why do you miss him?”

“I’ve never known anyone like him. There’s something about him. Someday, somehow, Jed Bartlet is going to do something important, be someone important, do something good for the world. He’s funny. He’s smart. He cares about people, about things.”

“Sounds like you’re in love.”

“I’m too young to be in love.”

“Love doesn’t necessarily pay attention to a calendar.”

“And I want to be a doctor.”

“Does this Jed say you can’t be one?”

“No; he thinks I can do anything I want.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He’s supposed to be a priest.”

“He thought he was supposed to be a priest. Maybe you are God’s way of telling him he’s wrong. Abbey, do you love him?”

Quietly, but with a smile of realization. “Yes.”

“Then tell him.”

Ron called for the check, and took Abbey back to her dorm.

“Be happy, Abs.”

“What can I ever do to repay you?”

“Someday, sometime, something might occur to you. Remember what you owe me,” Ron laughed and left the building.

Abbey went to the pay phone, dialed the number for Alumni Hall, and asked for Jed, hoping that she wouldn’t lose her courage before he came to the phone.

**The next night**

“ _So I whispered ‘I love you’.”_

“Someone helped me to see how wrong I was. Can you forgive me? Is there still a chance for us? Or have you changed your mind about me, changed your mind again about the priesthood?” Abbey’s voice was shaking and she couldn’t look Jed in the eyes.

Jed put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.

“Tell this person I owe them a huge debt of gratitude,” he smiled into her eyes. “I haven’t changed my mind about you; I’m still convinced I’m not called to the priesthood.”

Abbey threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Jed, I love you!”

She gasped to herself. What had she just done?

“ _And he said that he loved me too”_

Jed pulled back and put his hands on either side of Abbey’s face.

“Not as much as I love you, Abigail Barrington.”

“ _And then he kissed me”_

He kissed her fully on her mouth, a gentle but thorough kiss, unlike any kiss he had previously given her.

“ _He kissed me in a way that I’d never been kissed before  
He kissed me in a way that I wanna be kissed forever more.”_

The kiss deepened; Jed’s mouth opened and Abbey’s followed suit. Then his mouth broke away and he began to kiss her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheekbones, her eyebrows, her ears, her chin. He reached for her right hand, kissed each finger, kissed her palm, kissed her left palm. His mouth returned to hers and he kissed her deeply again.

It was cold, so they walked back to her dorm and sat in the lounge. They caught up on their lives over the past six weeks.

He would be going to London in the fall, to the School of Economics. He and she would have to invest in aerogrammes, save money for precious trans-Atlantic phone calls.

He had told his family of his decision. Surprisingly, his Catholic mother took the decision with more grace than his Episcopalian father. His father told Jed that he should expect no money to help with expenses in England; he would have to make do with the fellowship funds. And Jed’s trust fund was not available to him until he was twenty-five. However, his maternal grandmother let him know that “the Irish side” would help as much as they could.

**Late April**

“Jed! Wellesley accepted me!”

“I’m so happy for you, darling! Have you told your folks?”

“I’m calling them next.”

**Late June; West Barrington, RI**

“ _I knew that he was mine, so I gave him all the love that I had”_

Abbey lay in the moonlight, thinking that she needed to wake Jed. Her parents had extended her curfew since she had come back from Indiana, but they let her know that they still expected her home by 1:00 AM.

When Jed and Abbey had come to the shore for their evening picnic, they didn’t plan for this. At least, she didn’t; and the stickiness on her stomach indicated that Jed didn’t either.

When the rain started, she remembered that her aunt and uncle were on vacation in Quebec and their cottage was empty. Abbey knew where the key was hidden.

They had run inside, laughing, and Jed built a fire to warm and dry them.

The fire and the rain contributed to the mood as necking and petting became something else.

Right before he came over her, she stopped him and told him that he wasn’t the first. She told him about Ron.

“None of that matters, Abbey.” He kissed her. “Besides, one of us should know what to do.”

But the virgin Jed seemed to know exactly what to do. Earlier when he was dancing his fingers across the very core of her, Abbey heard him mumbling something and somehow managed to ask, between her gasps, what he was saying. He told her that the book had said that it was very important that he make sure she was “prepared and satisfied manually” before he entered her. The book recommended at least thirty minutes of “stimulation” and also recommended techniques for keeping himself in check as well as techniques for pleasing a woman. He was translating the Preamble of the Constitution into Latin in his head.

Thirty minutes of “preparation” – Ron barely spent thirteen minutes from start to finish. Maybe that’s why she didn’t feel anything with Ron.

It was certainly why she felt everything she was supposed to feel with Jed, both before he joined her and after.

She had screamed about twenty minutes into the thirty, then screamed again two minutes later as Jed’s fingers continued to work magic after he had entered her. She felt him begin to stiffen, then felt emptiness as he quickly left her, pressed himself against her stomach. As he groaned, she felt the warmth spurt against her, felt a droplet or two touch her breasts, felt one droplet touch her chin.

It took her two seconds to realize that he had done his best to protect her.

After the end of the academic year, she had packed up her belongings, said good-bye to Becky and the other girls at St. Mary’s, and returned to Rhode Island. She didn’t stay for Jed’s graduation. Jed didn’t know how his father would react to Abbey and didn’t want to subject Abbey to the man just yet.

She got a job at the Friendly’s in town, and had become adept at cabinets and egg creams.

Jed had a summer job at one of the banks in Boston.

Today, he had come down to see her.

She could tell that her parents were impressed with her boyfriend. They recognized the name at once. They were pleased that he was Catholic.

Jed made easy conversation with them, asked her father what time he should have Abbey home, and thanked her mother for the lemonade and for the picnic basket.

Jed stirred against her, opened his eyes, and smiled.

“I guess I should buy some rubbers,” he said. “I love you, Abbey Barrington.

Against her will, the words from last fall echoed in her head.

“ _Will you still love me tomorrow?”_

“Honey, we’d best clean up and get you home. Knowing what I know now, I don’t want you grounded or forbidden to see me.”

“Jed, what about our souls? What about mortal sin?”

“Abbey, I can’t see how loving you can be a sin. Let’s talk about that some other time. Maybe you can come up and meet Father Tom; we can talk to him together.”

**Early July; Manchester, NH**

“ _And one day he took me home to meet his mom and his dad”_

“Mrs. Bartlet. Mr. Bartlet. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Abbey. Now I know why Jed spends his free time in Rhode Island instead of with us,” Jed’s mother laughed.

Abbey was quaking inside. Jed’s mother was thoroughly gracious, doing her best to make Abbey feel at ease, but Abbey could sense the tension between Jed and his father.

“So, Abbey, I understand you’ll be transferring to Wellesley in the fall.” Mrs. Bartlet made small talk with practiced ease.

“Yes, ma’am. In fact, I’ll be stopping there tomorrow on the way back to get some things settled.”

“Tomorrow?” Jed’s father’s head snapped.

Good lord, Abbey thought, he thinks I’m going to spend the night with Jed.

“My grandmother wants to introduce me to a friend of hers in the DAR, a Mrs. Coatesworth-Hay. I’m spending the night at her place in Back Bay.” Take **that** , you nasty man!

“Jed says you are aiming for Harvard Med,” Mr. Bartlet continued. “That’s a hard life for a woman.”

“Are you saying that a woman can’t succeed in a man’s world?”

“Not at all. I know of many women who are just as capable, intellectually, as a man. I merely mentioned that it will be a challenge.”

“I don’t run from challenges.”

“No, my dear, I’m sure you don’t.” And Jed’s father conceded defeat to the young woman his son had brought home to dinner.

**The next day; Wellesley, MA**

Abbey sat in the outer lobby of the Admissions Office. A credentials officer had gone to find out if Abbey could take a Biology class usually reserved for juniors.

The door opened and a small tour group entered.

“If you’ll wait here, there will be people available to speak with you. Thank you for your interest in Wellesley.” The student guide left the room.

Abbey glanced over at the group. It looked to be four families.

One of the girls looked up at Abbey and smiled. She appeared to be rather young, maybe 14 or 15 at most.

The girl came over to Abbey.

“Do you go to school here?”

“I’m transferring in, so I will be.”

“It’s so perfect. I’ve just **got** to come here!”

Somehow, Abbey sensed that she would.

“Well, then I hope you do come here. My name is Abbey.”

“I’m Hillary.”

**Late July.**

Abbey turned the corner to her house.

It had been a long and tiring day at Friendly’s. She had made two mistakes, a chocolate cabinet instead of a coffee one, and a strawberry sundae instead of a cherry one. And at Friendly’s, you ate your mistakes – they came off your food allowance.

Abbey knew why she had made the mistakes, but she didn’t mind the cramps. She was grateful she was having a period.

Her heart lightened as she saw Jed’s car parked in front of her house; she didn’t know he was coming to see her today.

When she walked in the house, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Mom? Where’s Jed?”

“He’s in with your father.” Her mother gestured to the closed door of the den. Abbey didn’t notice the quiet, funny tone in her mother’s voice.

“Okay.” She walked to the door.

“Abigail.”

Abbey turned to face her mother.

“Abby, he came down, wearing a suit and a tie, and asked to speak with your father in private. Go upstairs and change.”

Abbey looked at her mother with confusion.

Mrs. Barrington’s face softened.

“Honey, in thirty or forty or fifty years, when you look back on this day, you don’t want to tell your grandchildren that you had ice cream smeared on your face and that you were wearing a dirty Friendly’s uniform.”

Abby finally realized what her mother was telling her. She hugged her mother and ran upstairs.

Ten minutes later, her father called her name and she came downstairs. She had changed into a white and red cotton shirtwaist dress and little red flats.

Mr. Barrington kissed her lightly and told her that Jed had gone out to the gazebo. Her young man would like to speak with her.

_“Then he asked me to be his bride_   
And always be right by his side   
I felt so happy I almost cried   
And then he kissed me.” 


End file.
